


change your life

by ijemanja



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Episode Related, F/M, Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 08:27:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5998828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ijemanja/pseuds/ijemanja
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Britta stood against the very notion of soulmates with the entirety of her being.</p>
            </blockquote>





	change your life

**Author's Note:**

  * For [myrifique](https://archiveofourown.org/users/myrifique/gifts).



> This fic refers to the first season episode 'Introduction to Film'. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy this little treat, myrifique!

Like any sensible modern woman, Britta had always been really careful about where she stuck her tongue.

It wasn't even that she might feel a sense of obligation to her soulmate if she did find them - because she was a feminist and a cat person; her feelings were not for sale at the whim of fate. 

But besides that, she didn't even _want_ a soulmate, okay. She stood against the very notion of soulmates with the entirety of her being. 

When Britta was 9 and the local toy store came out with a line of soul-bound Barbie and Ken dolls that lit up when you made them kiss, she staged a sit-in protest in the pink aisle after school, declaring soulmates a commercialised weapon of the patriarchy to all who would listen. 

The toy store forced her parents to pay for the doll sets she graffitied with the words FASCISM SOLD SEPARATELY. So, ironically, the protest kind of wound up financially supporting the very institution it was intended to defeat. Which was a bummer. But 9-year-old Britta knew her point was solid: soulmates were whack.

As a pubescent teen and onward through the rest of her life, Britta made an equally dedicated point of not kissing anyone she suspected of having the slightest whiff of soulmate-potential about them. Because if they _were_ her soulmate - she just plain didn't want to know.

Well, that was the goal. She tried. She hardly ever kissed anyone but dudes she was really attracted to, anyway. And what were the odds of any of _them_ being her soulmate?

Britta was a vegetarian with the soul of a nineteenth-century suffragette - one of the badass ones who chained themselves to stuff and always looked really serious in those old timey photos. 

Seriously. What were the odds that her soulmate would be anyone but an equal devotee to the ideals of anarchism and the deconstruction of the kyriarchy from the top down? Frankly, if her soulmate was anyone other than Bea Arthur or the distilled essence of every barefoot dreamer who ever lived for a year in the branches of an endangered redwood, she would be very surprised.

And she never made out with Bea Arthur. She wasn't even sure Bea Arthur was still alive.

So she was probably safe.

For the record: her anti-soulmate kissing policy had nothing to do with her intention to never hook up with Jeff Winger.

The very idea of forging a pre-destined soulbond with him? Ridiculous. He was the antithesis of everything she believed in, and his nose was kind of weird. 

No, she wasn't going to kiss Jeff because she was mostly just low-key grossed out by him. Plus she was sort of going out with Vaughn (who had the barefoot thing going on, true, but was way too intense about hacky-sack to ever live more than park-bench height above the ground, so she knew he was safe to make out with as much as she wanted).

The problem was that, grossness aside, Jeff was kind of becoming her friend. 

And 'would not kiss' was suddenly subject to certain qualifications. Like 'would possibly kiss under certain circumstances like tequila shooters, or if they got trapped in a cave-in for some reason, or if he saved a cat from a burning building and it was a heat of the moment kind of situation'. Because hey, things happened.

It was also fine to, say, kiss the guy in order to secure him a passing grade in his stupid blow-off class. That was totally fine. No big deal. It was just doing a friend a solid because he'd helped her out with the whole Abed situation.

"You should kiss me right now," she said.

And he did. 

And, well, fuck.

"I know a life-changing kiss when I see one!" Professor Whitman crowed like an idiot, but it was nothing but background noise.

Once their lips parted they stared at each other, and a weird heat flared in Britta's chest like something was exploding. 

Maybe it was all her preconceived notions about the world and her place in it being blown to smithereens. Maybe it was the convictions of a starry-eyed 9-year-old anarchist and all her fondest dreams of staging a one-girl revolution going out with a boom. Maybe it was a deep and profound connection between her soul and that of a douchey ex-lawyer with a fivehead being forged in the white hot flames of destiny to be seared into the core of her very being for all eternity.

Maybe it was all of them at once.

Or maybe everything was fine and she was just having a heart attack or something.

Damn it. She should have kissed Bea Arthur.


End file.
